A hare was dancing in the middle of the streetYou know his feet were slappin' down a funky beat.He had his arms thrown wide, he was a sight to seeHis mouth was runnin' mile a minute spewin' out debris.He was singin' his own praises as you might have guessedAnd then out came this proclamation 'bout his speediness:

“I'm a speed demon, I'm a shooting star,I peel the paint right off the chassis of a racing car.I got the rockets in my heels like Mercury,Yeah, when it comes to speed there's no one holds a candle to me.I turn the light out in my room sometimes just for a larkAnd I'm in bed and covered up before the room gets dark!Now that's fast!”

Well a crowd had gathered and they started to cheerThey were dancin' in the street and they were drinkin' beer.The hare was swelled to bursting from his recent boastAnd his agent grabbed the microphone to make a toast.The more praise lauded the more that hare's head grewWhen he heard a voice holler, “I'm faster than you!”

Well the hare reared up and he shot a glanceHe rolled his shirt sleeves up and he hitched his pants.He said, “Who dares to challenge the King of Speed?You'd better make your will before I make you bleed!”And when the crowd about-faced in a single moveThere stood an old green tortoise putting on the groove.

“You think you're pretty coolYou think you're pretty fastYou think you're King of SpeedYou know that just can't last.You got an attitudeYou got an ego, tooYou got an arroganceIt'll be the death of you.You think yourself a hareYou're just a rabbit to meAnd I can beat any rabbitIn the first degree.You wanna take me onYou wanna win the cupYou gotta prove the puddingOr else shut up.You wanna win your crownYou have to break a sweatYou haven't proved a thingTo these people yet.You're just flappin' gumsYou're just a yappin' gobYou gotta put up or shut up,So take the job!”

Well, the hare started laughing and the crowd did, tooHaving fits of hysteria 'til they're turning blue.The hare said, “You? You? You haven't got a chance!You make me laugh so hard I almost wet my pants!You say you want a race? I'm ready to depart.I'll cross the finish line before you even start!”

“I'm a speed demon, I'm a cannon ball,You might be heck on wheels but I'm hell on paws.I'm like Speedy Gonzalez on caffeine,I got the rockin' locomotion in my genes.I'm the streak of light on a scimitar,I'm Lightnin' Hopkins on electric guitarAnd that's fast!”

The pistol sounded and the race was onThe hare was out of sight but the tortoise was calm.He plodded steadily onward to a four-four beatWith two pairs of Reeboks on his feet.He had a knowing smile upon his faceAnd this to say as he kept his pace:

“That rabbit way up thereHe thinks I got no chanceHe's lookin' mighty fineIn leather runnin' pants.He's laughin' awful hardHe thinks it's in the bagIt's all too easy for himHear him boast and brag.He hasn't got a clueBeyond his jibes and jeersThat I been training hardFor the last three years.I've been working outAt my local gymAnd my honest sweatWill win out over him.I got him dead to rightsWith these four fat feetGonna settle his hashWith a steady beat.I'm gonna cut him downTo his rightful sizeWhen I cross that lineWhen I win that prize.”

So, now a mile out front we pick up Mr. HareHe's just boppin' along without a single care.He ran the race full-tilt for ‘bout the first half mileAnd then he settled back jogging in his lazy style.He spied a shady grove beneath an old oak treeAnd thought, ‘I'll rest me here till slowpoke catchesUp with me.'

Well, he sat himself down on that comfy sodAnd in thirty seconds he was starting to nod.He was feeling woozy, he was feeling goodAnd inside two minutes he was sawing wood.He woke up two hours later with a crick in his spineJust in time to see the tortoise cross the finish line.

How the crowd did scoff and how the crowd did scornA hare so slow should be ashamed he that he'd been born.They paid no heed to his excuses, he had had his dayThey lifted Tortoise on their shoulders, carried him away.He could hear the victory bell ringing, Ding! Ding! Ding!And from a distance he could hear the crowd begin to sing:

“He's a speed demon, he's a vegetable,He's an old dray horse with a load to pull.He's got no rockets in his pockets, it's just lead shot,And his rockin' locomotion has all gone to pot.He's black strap molasses in a right deep freeze,He's the Energizer bunny with no batteriesHe's last!”